


Something There That Wasn't There Before

by Cecils_Third_Eye



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Amnesia, Canon Gay Character, Caretaking, Gaston (Disney) Being an Asshole, Gaston Lives, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Internal Conflict, M/M, Major Character Injury, Post-Movie(s), Pre-Slash, Selective Memory, Whatever you want to call it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 12:22:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10490817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cecils_Third_Eye/pseuds/Cecils_Third_Eye
Summary: Gaston awakens one week after falling to what should have been his demise, with absolutely no recollection of his fight with LeFou pre-battle. And LeFou, one week removed from the absolute worst night of his life, struggles with his desire to help Gaston after everything that transpired.





	

“I dreamed I saw the devil… until I realized it was only me.”

\--

Gaston winced, the world around him a swirl of color that seemed to lack all definition and substance. He could feel the mattress beneath him, firm and warm, and a familiar weight blanketed over his sore, _sore_ body…

Why in the name of all that is holy did his body _hurt_ so badly?

He blinked, and the world seemed to come into focus a little at a time until he recognized his bedroom. There was the dresser against the far wall, barren save for what he deemed the absolute necessities. A boar head was mounted just above it, a trophy to commemorate his first solo hunt. In the far corner, by the window, was a plain mirror.

It was far from the extravagance that _creature’s_ castle boasted, but… it was practical. It was simplistic, yes, but what he lacked in physical possessions he made up for just by being Gaston. What lady _wouldn’t_ be honored to be the wife of such a handsome, charismatic, charming, strong, talented, _perfect_ man?

Belle. Belle, who had fallen for that hideous _deformity_ , who had defended him even as he tried to throw Gaston from the side of the castle… She wouldn’t consider it an honor. She’d think it a _burden_.

Just thinking about that monstrous creature caused his head to spin again and he groaned, suddenly feeling the unwelcome twinge of bile as it climbed up his throat. The weight atop him shifted up and over, and the comforting heat radiating from their body went with. Gaston groaned again, suddenly cold and alone and _in so much pain_ …

The bucket appeared just in time. A shot of pain filled his stomach as it violently rebelled, the strong scent of stomach acid accompanying the sound of sick splashing against the wooden pale doing little to calm the waves of nausea rolling over him.

Once he’d finished, the bucket was replaced with a cool cup of water. “Here, drink this. You need to stay hydrated.”

“L-LeFou..?” Gaston took a few hesitant sips, flinching when the liquid caused the knot in his stomach to grow tighter.

“Yeah.” His friend dipped his handkerchief in the water, before bringing it up to clean the sweat from Gaston’s handsome face. “You’ve been unconscious for almost a week. I was beginning to get concerned.”

Gaston frowned, “How long… How long have you been here?”

LeFou sighed, attempting to look anywhere but at Gaston’s face. “Who do you think found you and pulled you from that trench?”

“I don’t actually remember much of what happened.”

“It’s probably better that way.”

LeFou seemed unwilling to offer anything more in the way of explanation, and for once, Gaston knew better than to push. From the tenseness in his friend’s posture, it was clear that just being here and tending to Gaston had taken a great toll. The details might’ve been blurry for Gaston, but LeFou could remember the proceedings as if it had all happened yesterday.

“What is the last thing that you remember?” LeFou asked suddenly. He was busying himself tending to the wounds on Gaston’s abdomen – a collection of mildly deep scratches, all of which were in various stages of healing.

“We were… We were going to commit Maurice…” Gaston furrowed his brow, confusion clear in his bright blue eyes, “And then I was falling from the castle and there was just _pain_ …”

LeFou nodded, “You did hit your head pretty hard. Honestly, I’m surprised you can remember your own name.”

Gaston stared into his friend’s chocolate eyes for a moment, desperate to maintain that eye contact no matter how hard LeFou fought against him. “What is it that I’m forgetting, LeFou?”

“It’s not like it’s important. It’s never been important.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

“Why do you want to know so badly?” LeFou asked, applying an herbal remedy to the wounds with a little more force than necessary. “That was then.”

“And it is obviously still bothering you,” Gaston said.

“At least one of us should have the benefit of selective memory of that night, Gaston.”

God, he was so _stupid_. Why did he think he could be here, in the same room as this man, and all those painful feelings that had eaten away at him for _years_ wouldn’t resurface? That he could just pretend his best friend in the entire _world_ hadn’t fucking threatened to have him committed over a girl that didn’t give _two shits_ about him?

And yet, after that dance… in the light of that new dawn, he’d gone searching the palace grounds and found Gaston’s broken body tangled in a trench. His leg was broken badly and his head was bleeding profusely, it was any wonder he’d survived the trip back into town.

LeFou still didn’t know why he’d stayed. Didn’t know why, when Gaston had begun to whimper in his sleep from the pain and delirium, he’d simply climbed into bed beside him and enclosed him in his warm, _safe_ embrace…

LeFou knew better. Knew he _deserved_ better. And yet he was letting Gaston pull him back in nonetheless.

“Why do I want to know? You’re my best friend, LeFou! I must know the name of the person responsible for hurting you, so that I can shove my boot so far up their ass they’ll be able to taste it in their throat.” Gaston said sternly.

“Gaston, you can hardly move, let alone make _anyone_ tremble at your feet -,” LeFou began, only to be interrupted.

“Nonsense, you fool! I am in the prime of my life.” He denied, blatantly ignoring the stabbing pain in his chest that arose from attempting to sit up on his own. “Now, give me his name so that I might make him fall to his knees and beg your forgiveness.”

“What if I said it was _you_ , Gaston?” LeFou asked quietly. But he knew by the way his friend suddenly froze that he’d heard.

“M-Me?” Gaston looked positively flabbergasted.

“As I said before,” LeFou began with a small sigh, “It doesn’t matter. I’m probably reading too much into it, and for what? You can’t even remember what happened.” He turned his back on Gaston, “So let’s pretend like it never did.”

Gaston was silent for a moment, before whispering, “Why are you here, then?”

LeFou looked stricken, perhaps because he’d been wondering the same exact thing himself. “W-What do you mean?”

“If I hurt you so badly, why didn’t you just leave me in that trench to die? Why did you stay here with me this entire time? _Why_?”

LeFou swallowed hard, taking Gaston’s sudden line of questioning as yet another brutal rejection. His heart sputtered pathetically in his chest as it struggled to cope with how little he really meant to this man. “I can leave, if that’s -,”

He was already rising off of the bed, suddenly desperate to put as much distance between himself and Gaston as possible. Now that the man was conscious, he was technically out of the woods and wouldn’t need round-the-clock care anyhow. LeFou wouldn’t have to subject himself to Gaston’s abuse any longer. He wouldn’t…

The tears were unwelcome. He should be happy to finally have a chance to escape his tormentor after so many years of living in his shadow, lavishing him with undeserved praise and receiving nothing but ridicule in return. Granted, Gaston had always protected him from the gibes of the other villagers… but sometimes, he’d just take things too far and it really, _really_ hurt.

Before he could make it too far, however, a hand snaked around his wrist and pulled lightly. When he stubbornly refused to move, the hand pulled harder, and harder still, until LeFou was toppling onto the bed and landed on top of Gaston in a rather unceremonious heap.

“Fuck…” Gaston groaned, and LeFou leaped off of him, worried he’d aggravated one of a seemingly endless number of wounds. “No, no… you’re not going anywhere… that was just… poor planning on my end.”

“Gaston, I…” LeFou settled on the bed beside him, before letting out a startled yelp as Gaston pulled him to his chest with surprising strength.

Gaston tucked LeFou’s head beneath his chin, before whispering, “I’d kick my own ass, but I think that’s already been done for me.”

“It’s in the past, Gaston.” But even he had trouble believing himself.

The bigger man pressed an uninjured finger to his lips. “Shh, don’t talk. After all, how can you ever hope to take care of me if you can’t even look after yourself?” He inquired, staring openly at the dark purple bags beneath LeFou’s eyes.

“I should really go -,” he struggled in vain to escape the prison of Gaston’s arms, but Gaston held firm.

“Sleep.” He said, pressing a kiss to LeFou’s swollen eyes. And then he settled down and drifted off, his grip on his smaller companion never quite relaxing.

And LeFou, heart pounding wildly in his chest and blood coloring his cheeks a vibrant red, found that sleep did not come easily that night.


End file.
